A Happy Accident: 70 Years
by Njchrispatrick
Summary: Lily Evans only fell in love once. It was to a hero, a man who everyone looked up to. But then she lost him. Her son, her baby boy, was all she had left of that love. However, life has a way of taking an unexpected path...
1. Chapter 1

Lily Evans tapped the smoky glass orb in front of her with the tip of her wand, making a _ping_ resonate from it. The smoke within the ball flared for a moment before dimming back to a neutral grey color. Lily nodded and tucked her wand behind her ear so that she could make a check on the clipboard in her other arm.

Sometimes being an Unspeakable was a horribly boring job. When Lily had graduated top of her class with recommendations from every teacher, she had been so eager to apply to the Department of Mysteries. She loved puzzles and discovery of new things. It was why she had been so excited when her Hogwarts letter arrived. But being an Unspeakable had its downsides, too; cataloguing the prophecy orbs, for one.

The prophecy orbs were used to store premonitions made be Seers. Entire shelves, each holding hundreds of orbs, were tied to the bloodlines of Seers dating back to the Oracles of Delphi. Many had died out but a few, like the Trelawney family, still had some kick in them. The prophecies were not supposed to see the light of day because once a prophecy was heard, it became set in time.

Lily made one last check on her list as she recorded the number of the last prophecy orb. That done, she turned on her heel and began the long walk back to the Unspeakable Headquarters. Maybe, if she was lucky, she could get off early and go see a movie in the muggle world or something. Perhaps she could introduce James to the wonders of _Star Wars_.

James Potter had been a blight to her for her first five years of Hogwarts. From young boy to teenager, he had maintained a deep infatuation with her that could outshine the sun. It had taken six years for him to finally get over it, when she acquiesced to him taking her on a date. It hadn't gone well; both were far too dominant people to ever engage in a peaceful relationship. But they could be friends.

The sound of footsteps tore Lily out of her thoughts. She looked up just in time to see a fellow Unspeakable, Jonathan Carter, dash around the corner ahead and run towards. His dark blue Department of Mysteries robe was torn and splattered with dark stains, and his cheek had a long cut down it.

When he saw her he stumbled to a halt, his blue eyes wide with panic. "Lily!" he gasped out. "What are you still doing here? They're coming!"

Lily froze, staring at him in shock. "Jon? What's going on? Who's coming?"

He glanced back, and Lily suddenly realized that she could hear distant shouting and running. "Death Eaters," he whispered, leaning closer to her. "You-Know-Who's led his Death Eaters on an attack against the Department of Mysteries." He glanced around them and Lily was thankful for the shelves hiding them. "They're killing all the muggleborns they can find! Lily, you need to get out of here!" he hissed.

Her grip tightened around her wand and she set the clipboard down on one of the shelves. "Like hell I'm gonna run," she snapped back at him, flicking a strand of dark red hair out of her eyes.

"Please Lily," he begged, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I want you to be saf-"

He was cut off when a sickeningly green light collided with him and he fell to the floor, eyes wide and unseeing. Dead. Lily gaze snapped up to meet the grey eyes of a madwoman. Black hair fell in ragged ringlets around her face, and her pale lips were parted in a dark grin.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Lily spat. She watched as a few other Death Eaters, all wearing skull-like masks, stepped out from behind the shelves.

Bellatrix threw her head back and gave a throaty laugh. "Lily Evans," she cooed in a sickeningly sweet voice. "The ickle mudblood _whore_."

Lily narrowed her eyes slightly. "This coming from the woman who begs for Voldemort's attention? Prostrates herself like some _bitch_?"

Bellatrix's smirk morphed into a furious snarl as she raised her black wand. "_Crucio_!" Bellatrix screeched, the scarlet bolt of magic shooting out of her wand towards Lily.

At the same time Lily dropped to the floor and sent an Exploding Hex at the shelf besides Bellatrix. The Cruciatus sailed over her head as the shelf exploded, raining fragments of glass down on them and filling the area with smoke and dust. Bellatrix's shriek of rage was Lily's cue to take off running in the opposite direction.

Lily ducked into the Time Chamber, slamming the door behind her. Bellatrix wouldn't be held up for long, and she would return with a vengeance. Perhaps goading her while she had backup wasn't such a good idea…

A loud crashing sound emanated from the other side of the room, making Lily's head whip around.

"…can't believe that _this_ is the great 'Department of Mysteries', eh Rookwood? I thought it would be better than a bunch of clocks and broken Time-Turners."

Lily cursed under her breath as she realized that she was sandwiched in on both sides by Death Eaters. She glanced around for a moment before she saw a large wooden cabinet off to the side, filled with distinctive objects. Time-Turners. She stepped over to it and crouched down beside it, wishing that there was enough space behind.

Just in time, too. A moment later the door she had come through exploded into slivers of wood. Through the door stepped Bellatrix and the three masked Death Eaters.

"Find her!" Bellatrix ordered them, her expression twisted and grotesque. "We'll show that little mudblood her place!"

Lily ducked down farther as the Death Eaters began to search. She hated hiding. Hated it. Hated it more than anything else in the world. She prided herself on being a fighter, someone who stood up against any injustice. People always underestimated her, but she used that to her advantage. Like the time Lucius Malfoy tried to take advantage of her.

He had cornered her, a big seventh-year boy against a small fifth-year girl. He had done it late one evening in a side-corridor, knowing that no one would be nearby. Lucius had probably expected it to be easy. She doubted that he expected 'sweet, kind, innocent Lily Evans' to punch him the nose, kick him in the balls, and send a Bone-Breaking Curse at him. To say that it was effective was an understatement—it had shattered the hip completely, and to this day he walked with a limp. Better yet, if he had tried to press charges she could have given up a memory and gotten him arrested for attempted rape. Thank god for the current Minister being a woman.

"There you are!" screamed Bellatrix's voice suddenly, making Lily's head jerk toward the woman. Just as she looked up the dark-haired woman launched a dark blue spell towards Lily. It sizzled as it flew and Lily's brain froze for just a second too long.

Lily tried to leap away, but the spell smashed into the cabinet of Time-Turners beside her. The entire thing exploded, pieces of glass, golden metal, and sand flying everywhere. Lily squeezed her eyes shut and put her hands over her ears as sound like a hurricane roared up around her. Winds buffeted her from all sides and the floor beneath her slipped away. She didn't even dare to open her eyes.

After what felt like an eternity the sound vanished, and Lily could once again feel the floor under her feet. She slowly blinker her eyes open and looked around, removing her hands from her ears. There seemed to be a fine coating of sand covering her entire body.

Then Lily got a good look around her. She seemed to be kneeling in a small alleyway, dirt ground cold under her. Using the wall she pushed herself to her feet and dusted herself off, shaking the sand out of her hair. She hesitantly walked to the entrance of the alley so that she could see where she was. Her eyes grew wide.

A smoothly paved street ran in front of her, cars from long before her time trundling down them. Men in suits and fedoras walked by holding briefcases, and women in poufy dressed and feather hats gossiped in small groups. The buildings were old-fashioned yet strangely new-looking, composed of flat grey sides and rectangular windows. Lily did a double-take as an honest-to-god ice truck drove past.

"Where am I?" she breathed.

* * *

The older man frowned as he read down the sheet of paper, glancing up at Lily every so often. She fought the urge to fidget, knowing that it never looked good to be nervous in an interview. Of course, she had never imagined being in an interview in 1940. It was all Bellatrix's fault.

As far as Lily could guess, Bellatrix had done more than destroy a couple dozen Time-Turners. Time-Turners were not dangerous items due to their inability to transport anyone back more than 12 hours. Once that point was surpassed the Time-Turner would not be able to withstand the paradox and shatter. The recipient would not be harmed, though they would have to pay a fine. Even the shattering could not harm them—Time-Turners held only a tiny fraction of dust, and the breaking of one would only displace someone by thirty minutes at most.

When Bellatrix had sent the curse at Lily and hit the Time-Turner cabinet, it had far longer-reaching effects. There were _dozens_ of Time-Turners in that cabinet. Not only that, it was where Time Dust was stored after it was harvested from… wherever it was harvested from. Then Bellatrix's spell had added chaotic mix into the equation. Lily was lucky to be alive and still within her own century.

For now, Lily was stuck in 1940. She had permanently darkened her hair to a rusty brown, though the red tint was still noticeable, and vanished the green of her eyes under a brown illusion. After all, she didn't want anyone to be able to realize that it was her—she had seen Doctor Who—and had even changed her name. Margaret, for her mother, and Carter, for Jonathan, who saved her life with his warning.

The man, General Chester Phillips, sighed and dropped her transcript onto the desk. "I am afraid that I will have to reject you, Ms. Carter," he said as he looked at her. "War is no place for a woman such as yourself. Go home, get married, have a couple of kids. Leave the fighting to those of us who understand it."

_That_ got Lily rather pissed. When she dropped out of the sky and learned that World War II was going on, there was no way in hell that she was going to ignore that. Men were fighting and dying for their families, and she had no right to stand back when she could help.

She leaned over his desk, placing her hands on top of his papers to support herself as she look him straight in the eyes. For a sudden moment he reminded her of her grandfather—old, tired, having seen too much death and destruction in his life. "Now you listen here General," she snapped, narrowing her eyes. "I am not some idealistic girl who wants to go overseas. I am not some foolish woman who will cower and hide at the first sign of blood!" She raised on hand to point at him, making him go cross-eyed.

"My name is Peggy Carter, and you better bet your wrinkly ass that I am going to do my part in this war!" With that she turned and stormed toward the door, slamming it open loudly. But she paused at the sound of clapping, and turned around to see General Phillips grinning widely as he stood.

"Now that's what I needed to see!" he cried with a small grin. Then, with Lily's confused gaze on him, he picked up his pen and signed the line on her papers marked _permission_. "There you go Ms. Carter," he said with another smile as he held them out to her. "Let's win this war, shall we?"

* * *

"Recruits! Attention!" called Lily, or, as she was now known, _Peggy_. Thanks to both General Phillips's trust in her, along with her own endless ambition (that had almost landed her in Slytherin), Lily had quickly moved up the ranks of the military. Many doubted her military prowess, her being a woman, but it never lasted long.

"Gentlemen, I'm Agent Carter," she continued, slowly walking down the line in front of them. "I supervise all operations for this division."

As expected, it did not take long (mere seconds really) for one of the men to get mouthy. His comment on her accent, followed by the innuendo, were all it took for her to punch him in the nose and send her to the floor.

When she stepped back and General Phillips began his little 'pep talk' she noticed Dr. Erskine, a genius like no other and a new friend of hers, watching one recruit out of the corner of his eye. Lily took a moment to look at the man. He was rather short, even shorter than her, with a very skinny frame, slight shoulders, and apparent lack of any muscle mass whatsoever. She would give him three days, tops.

* * *

One week later Lily was regretting that assumption of hers. In hindsight she really shouldn't have judged on appearance, especially when people did that to her so often. What Steve Rogers lacked in physical strength he made up for in strength of character. He was resourceful, loyal, and shockingly persevering. The incident with the fake grenade had proved that, more than anything, he was willing to do whatever it took. As she sat next to him in the car ride to the laboratory, she was not surprised that Dr. Erskine picked him.

Steve's voice startled her out of her thoughts. "I know this neighborhood," he realized, looking out of the window with interest. "I got beat up in that alley." He pointed to one narrow street they passed.

As he pointed out two more placed she fought the urge to either smile or sigh. He was so strong in character that it was sad to think of him never being supported. "Did you have something against running away?" she asked offhandedly.

His reply was surprisingly profound. "Once you start running they'll never let you stop. You stand up, push back… can't say no forever, right?"

"I know a little of what that's like." She was actually talking about being a muggleborn in a pureblood-only world, but knew that he would think it was because of her gender. "To have every door shut in your face."

As expected, he assumed that she meant the era's gender-roles. But as he stuttered out a bizarre mixture of compliment and question, she turned to look at him for the first time. "You have no idea how to talk to a woman, do you?" she asked him, the ghost of a smile on her face. There was something so endearing about Steve's clumsy approach. It probably stemmed from previously having very assertive males in her life before—James and Severus both had romantic interests in her, but both were the forward type. Steve seemed to be harboring a bit of a crush, however, he was far less confident. Perhaps she could help him with that.

* * *

Lily stood behind the famous 'Captain America', watching him sketch in his notebook. Before, watching him onstage, she had felt annoyed and a bit angry at what he had allowed himself to be turned into. But now, watching him sit alone in the rain, all she felt was pity. "Hello Steve," she greeted.

He turned around and his eyes widened. She was surprised that he could look so similar yet so different. "Hi," he answered, shocked.

She resisted the urge to snort. "Hi."

"What're you doing here?" he questioned in obvious shock.

"Officially I'm not here at all," she stated simply, sitting down on a box behind him. "That was quite a performance."

"Yea, uh… I had to improvise a little bit. The crowds I'm used to are usually a bit more… uh... twelve."

Lily could barely keep from sighing sadly. He hated this, it was clear as day. Steve was a fighter, a hero born in the body of a victim. Now he had been given a chance to become the hero he was meant to be and his one obstacle, like always, was confidence. He needed someone to believe in him.

* * *

"Looks like finding a partner wasn't that hard after all," Lily commented as she strode towards Howard Stark's 'study'. She didn't know why seeing Steve kissing the blonde military whore irked her so much, but it made her blood boil.

"Peggy, that's not what you thought it was," defended Steve as he tucked his tie back into his shirt.

Her eyelids lowered as she glanced at him. "I don't think anything, Captain, not one thing. You always wanted to be a soldier, and now you are, just like all the rest."

Steve stopped. "Well, what about you and Stark?" She turned around to face him. "How do I know you two haven't been… fondue-ing?" Then he gave her a look.

For a split second Lily had the urge to burst out laughing before she turned away and shook her head. "You still don't know a bloody thing about women."

* * *

As Lily watched Steve take a last sip of the alcohol, even knowing that it wouldn't affect him, she reached over and put a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, piercing blue meeting the dark brown covering her own green eyes. "You won't be alone, Steve," she repeated.

He gave her a small smile and she would later swear that his eyes were slightly teary. "Thanks Peggy," he said softly, placing the glass down on the table. "Thanks for everything."

Suddenly Lily had the insane urge to strip off her glamours. To let Steve see her as she truly was, to call her Lily, not Peggy. To know that he still saw her as his friend, even when she was someone completely different. But she couldn't.

"I'm here for you, Steve. I'm always here for you."

* * *

Lily knocked on the door to Steve's room, drawing her coat more tightly around her. Strictly speaking she wasn't supposed to be here, but tomorrow they were flying out to Schmidt's base and she couldn't do this with others around.

The door creaked open to reveal Steve. Shirtless. Sweaty. With bulging muscles. And a shocked expression on his face as he realized who it was. "Peggy?"

Lily tore her eyes away from the Adonis-like body in front of her to meet his eyes. He had been big before, but with the constant fighting and movement he was _huge_. "I-I wanted to say good luck," she stuttered out, drawing her coat tighter around her as a chill blew down the empty corridor. Seriously didn't they have _heating!?_

Steve obviously noticed her shivers, as he opened the door wider. "You're cold! Come in, please."

Lily hesitated for the briefest moment before giving in and stepping into his room. It was indeed warmer; the heavy warmth that came from a person, not a machine. She tried to ignore the half-naked figure of Steve next to her as she looked around his quarters. It was a good size, bigger than most of the others. There was a large bed against the wall (though it obviously had to be quite large), pushed aside as if sleeping was not important. In the corner was a punching bag hung from the ceiling, and spread out on the floor was a workout mat. If she had to guess he had been working out before she came in.

"Are you alright?"

Lily turned around and took a sharp intake of breath as her face stopped mere centimeters from his pectorals. Her gaze slowly rose to his concerned eyes. "Y-Yes, I'm fine," she stammered, quickly turning and moving to sit down on the bed. "Sorry, I… I'm just a bit tired."

Steve moved to sit next to her, his thick eyebrows furrowed in concern. He obviously hadn't yet realized that he was so… exposed, because he moved a bit closer to her. "Are you sure?"

Lily swallowed and nodded quickly before taking a deep breath to calm herself. "I'm just nervous for tomorrow," she answered, looking anywhere but at him.

A faint chuckle prompted her to turn and look at him. "You and me both," he muttered, scratching his jaw. She suddenly realized that his normally combed hair was mussed and the lower half of his face shadowed with stubble, barely noticeable due to the color and the lighting. In a way it suited him, though.

"Not that I should be," she admitted as a sudden guilt welled up. "I'm not the one risking my life to save thousands of people." She looked down at her lap.

Then a large hand was under her chin, turning her face towards him. Steve's expression was deathly serious, his face so close to hers. "Don't say that," he whispered as he looked into her eyes. "You have done more than I can ever do. You are a soldier, Peggy Carter; you always have been. Don't sell yourself short."

Lily was suddenly aware that his hot breath was ghosting over her lips and his face was so close to her own. Without even thinking about it she gently leaned forward and her lips brushed against his.

The kiss deepened as he leaned in further and one hand reached up to tangle in her hair. One of her hands circled his neck while the other ran down his torso, feeling the contours of the muscle. They were as solid as steel.

Then she began to lean back, forcing him to lean down on top of her. Her mind became hazy as he put one arm beside her to prop himself up and the other began to trail down her neck. Lily moved her hand from his chest to begin unbuttoning her blouse while the other pulled Steve down on top of her completely, his weight supported by his legs on either side of her.

She barely noticed it when Steve, impatience blooming, tore the blouse in half, scattering buttons all over the floor. Nor did she notice when his trousers and her skirt were removed. All she could feel was an entwining of love and passion, all centered on the man above her.

When he entered her it was painful, him being a very large man, but she endured it. His blue eyes gazed down at her with love and trust, both of which she knew were mirrored in her eyes. She kissed him as he began to move, faster and faster, until he was moaning into her mouth as he filled her with his seed.

Both collapsed, exhausted, onto his bed. Steve smiled down at her as he moved a stray lock of hair from her face. Then he lay down behind her, gently pulling her back into his chest and pulling the blankets over both of them. "I love you," he whispered into her ear as they drifted off to sleep.

"I love you to," she replied softly.

* * *

Lily picked up the folder General Phillips had left, opening it. She paused when she saw the edge of the picture within. A lone tear leaked from her eye and travelled down her cheek as she slid it out of the folder, seeing it. Steve, before he was Captain America. The young man who wanted to serve his country, who wanted to prove himself. And he had.

After glancing around Lily slid the picture into her blouse, making sure that no one could see it. Then her hand traveled down to her midsection, rubbing it softly. This picture would be who she would tell stories about. Stories to her unborn child, stories about his father, the greatest hero to ever live. About how Steve gave his life to keep everyone safe.

She placed the folder back down, closing it softly. Lily loved Steve. He was the first person that she had ever fallen in love with, and he had died a hero. There was no one she would be prouder to call the father of her child.

* * *

"-ly? Lily!?"

Lily took a great heaving gasp before bursting into coughs. Someone was helping her sit up and a glass was being put to her lips. She drank the water greedily, her throat parched and dry. Then she looked around.

There was a circle of men around her, all dressed in dark blue wizarding robes. It took her a few moments to place them—her job here seemed like a lifetime ago. "Lily?" said the voice from before. It took her a moment to focus on him—it felt like forever since someone had used that name.

"McCutchen?" she breathed, seeing the familiar face of the Unspeakable leader.

He grinned widely and nodded, his greying hair moving like a veil. "I'm so relieved that you are safe! It took us a month, but we finally managed to retrieve you. Are you alright?"

Lily's gaze shot from person to person before halting at McCutchen. "I'm… home?" she whispered.

He nodded.

For Lily, it was like being hit by a wrecking ball. Howard, Phillips, all of Steve's friends… they were gone. She was home… but then she wasn't. Her home was with them. Her home was gone.

And Lily cried.

* * *

Lily breathed heavily as she finally finished labor. It had taken twelve hours, but it was finally over. She watched the nurse pick up a blanket-wrapped object from the end of the bed and smile at it. "Congratulations, Mrs. Potter," the mediwitch said with a smile at Lily. "It's a boy."

Lily gave her a weak smile as she held out her arms for her son. The woman acquiesced, handing the squirming boy to his mother. When Lily saw her son for the first time she wanted to cry; he was so _beautiful_. Most wouldn't have said that about the squishy bald pink thing, but in her eyes he was the most precious thing in all of creation.

The creak of the door tore her eyes away from him to meet James Potter's. He was smiling softly at her as he entered.

"It's a boy," Lily said simply with teary smile. James's smile widened as he took a few hesitant steps towards the bedside and looked down at the newborn boy.

James had been a godsend to Lily. As her only real friend and confidant in her time, she had gone to him immediately. He had matured so much from the arrogant little boy who strutted around Hogwarts; he now listened to her and was sympathetic. He let her tell her story, laugh, cry, scream, and finally fall asleep. James had offered her a home, for as long as she would need it.

It was him who had come up with the plan. He married Lily, though neither of them held any romantic feeling for one-another. He married her to protect her, to keep her supported. And he did all of it out of the goodness of his heart. They planned to divorce after a year, allowing Lily to raise her son but also allowing James to live his own life. Lily had tried to dissuade him from giving her any money, but, according to him, 'He had too much money to spend in five lifetimes.'

"What are you going to name him?" James asked as Lily began to nurse the baby.

Lily raised her gaze to his and smiled softly. "I'll name him what I know Steve would have wanted. For his best friends: Howards James… Potter." The last part was said with some hesitation.

James just smiled at her. "It's a beautiful name."

Lily looked down at her son as he began to drift off to sleep. "He's a beautiful boy."

* * *

Lily grinned as she watched her now one-year-old son reach a chubby hand up in to grab the plastic keys she dangled above his head. He let out a squeal as he finally managed to grab them, though the effort made him roll backwards onto the rug.

While he may have been an unimpressive newborn, almost anyone who saw Howard Potter now would call him adorable. Not that anyone actually saw him—James and Lily had not allowed anyone else to see him, not even Sirius. The man had been sad but had trusted them.

"Up you go, Harry," Lily said as she pulled the baby up to a sitting position. She had started off calling him Howard, but it was such a mouthful that it had to be shorted. That, combined with constant baby-talk, had led to his name being shortened from 'Howard' to 'Howwy' to 'Harry'. Though Lily did hope that he would go by his proper name when he was older.

Harry gave her a gummy grin and clapper his little hands together. His mother was unable to resist swooping him up in a hug and kissing him on the cheek, making him giggle. Harry was the light of her life.

Even at his young age Lily could already see so much of both her and Steve in him. When Harry's hair had come in it was the same ash-blonde of Steve's. He had inherited Steve's toothy (or currently gummy) smile. But he had Lily's lips, her nose, and her wide eyes—the color of emeralds in sunshine. Of course he did have Steve's thick eyebrows, making it very amusing whenever he was concentrating and looking like Steve when the man was serious. The laugh was Lily's, the expressions Steve's, and the sparkle of life in his eyes all his own.

Unfortunately for him, the one thing he hadn't inherited had been his father's strength. A few hours after his birth the mediwitches had discovered that he had asthma. Hearing that had made Lily's blood run cold, especially as they quickly began to discover more ailments that afflicted her little boy. It appeared that, while he had his father's looks, he did not have Steve's health. Magic could do much, healing all sorts of ailments, but not many birth defects.

It was the very reason that no one had yet seen Harry. As far as everyone else knew, James was Harry's father. If anyone saw the blonde-haired boy they would instantly be able to notice the lack of Potter features in him. Lily also knew that Harry was fragile, delicate, and she wanted to keep him safe from the cruel world for as long as she could.

It was the very reason that no one had yet seen Harry. As far as everyone else knew, James was Harry's father. If anyone saw the blonde-haired boy they would instantly be able to notice the lack of Potter features in him.

Then there was the issue of the prophecy. McCutchen, the Unspeakable boss, had contacted her immediately to tell her that a prophecy had been spoken about her child. A prophecy about the fall of Voldemort. Lily was both delighted and horrified; she hated Voldemort and wanted him to be dragged down to hell where he belonged, but she would die before she let him anywhere near her son.

Suddenly a tremendous crash tore her attention away from her son. Her blood ran cold in her veins as a high-pitched laugh tore through the air, followed by the telltale words of the Killing Curse. Knowing what was happening, Lily grabbed her son and ran from the living room to the back door. However, to her shock and horror it was locked. No doubt Voldemort had warded the house against exit.

Lily dashed across the room to the back stairwell, hurrying up it as fast as she could. She and James had poured every warding spell they knew into the nursery; if there was one place in this house safe from Tom Riddle, it was there.

She entered the nursery and slammed the door shut behind her as she heard the tell-tale creaks on the stairway. Lily placed Harry in the crib and handed him his favorite stuffed teddy bear. Tears were leaking from the corners of his eyes; he was scared. He never cried like a normal child, snotty and loud; he cried quietly.

"Don't you worry, baby," she whispered, grabbing his little hand in hers and ignoring the tears coursing down her own cheeks. "Momma will protect you."

The sound of an explosion racked the room, forcing Lily to whip her head around. The Abomination entered the room. He was unnaturally tall, nearly seven feet. He was handsome like a vampire; pale skin, perfectly combed black hair, and a charming smile. The only thing that ruined the image was the blood-red eyes, slit like a snake's. "Ah, Lily Evans," he said softly, the 's' in her maiden name being drawn out like a snake. "Step aside, won't you? I only need to kill your child. There is no need for a powerful witch like yourself to fall, hmm?"

She shook her head. "Over my dead body, _Riddle_."

His smile twisted into an angry scowl. "Very well," he spat. "Then you shall fall." And he began to stride towards her.

Lily summoned all the magic in her body into her wand, beginning her silent prayer. If there was any good in the universe, if there was any being up there listening, she hoped that they cared. "You listen here you snakey bastard," Lily began, standing tall. "I don't care how powerful you are, because I have one thing you don't. One thing that you can never have."

He stopped right in front of her, looming over her like a giant. "And what would that be?" he whispered.

Lily met his red gaze and concentrated on her one wish. "Love."

And then gave herself up to him. The toxic green light filled her eyes and she felt herself slip away. The distant feeling of her body falling to the floor was barely noticeable. She had thought that death would be harsh and cruel, but it was… peace.

Lily Evans died that night. She did not live long enough to witness the results of her wish. Tom Riddle's Killing Curse was unable to kill her son that night. His Killing Curse rebounded because of more than magic, more than sacrifice. Lily Evans had unknowingly protected her son with her soul itself. For Voldemort, a being whose soul was shredded and twisted, his own magic rejected it. His body was destroyed, sending the monstrous wraith tumbling through the darkness of oblivion, yet still attached to the mortal world by a thread. Or rather, seven threads.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: One scene in this story was driving me nuts, I finally mastered it. It was the last scene.**

**WARNINGS: Lily(Peggy)/Steve, eventual Harry/(SECRET!)**

* * *

Lily sat on the back porch of her Ireland house, watching her son who was sitting in the grass a few feet from her. The three-year-old loved springtime, and on sunny days she would let him just sit in the grass and play with their golden retriever, Roger. She'd gotten the puppy for her son's birthday last year and he loved the dog.

The wind ruffled Harry's hair, the sun-bleached curls turned nearly platinum-blonde from the sun. Vividly green eyes sparkled with every smile and laugh, perfectly matching the green overalls his mother had dressed him in.

"Mummy look!" he called out, drawing her attention from the roses badly in need of a watering. Lily laughed at the large blue butterfly perched on top of his head. Harry had gone completely still to keep it from moving.

Moving to Ireland had been a great decision in Lily's mind. Harry thrived here in the green country. To her utter amusement he had even started to develop an Irish accent by the time he was three, unlike her.

For her Ireland was a safe haven, away from all the traumatic memories that lay in England and Scotland. The war may have ended but her life would never again have been normal. The papers had praised her as the 'Destroyer of Voldemort', the 'Woman-Who-Won' or some such rubbish. At the time she'd been holed up in a hotel grieving the loss of her husband and the near-loss of her son. She may not have cared for James like a spouse, but she loved him like a brother and the loss weighed heavy on her. Harry could obviously tell something was wrong because he wanted to stay in her arms the entire night.

When she'd heard that Sirius had been locked up in Azkaban, accused of being the Secret-Keeper, Lily had wanted so desperately to get him freed. But everyone was looking for her and Harry. She had tried to contact someone to get him freed, but there was only so far she could go without exposing herself and Harry to danger and publicity, and that was not something she could do, even for Sirius.

Harry grinned up at her as the butterfly opened and closed its wings and she smiled softly at him. He barely remembered his adoptive father. All he really knew of James was from pictures or from looking at his wand, which Lily had put in a case on top of the mantle. She told him that James was his daddy and loved him a lot.

She told him about Steve as well, his 'other daddy'. Lily had spent hours on the computer at the local library searching the internet for old memorabilia about Steve. She'd even found a recreation of one of the old Captain America teddy bears that had been sold to children. Steve had been so embarrassed by it, but years later his son would love his and drag it everywhere he went.

Lily watched as the butterfly flew off Harry's head and landed on a flower a meter or so away. Harry stared, transfixed, as it stretched out its proboscis and began to drink from the flower. She leaned over and ruffled his hair, making him jump and giggle. "She probably thought you were a giant flower, Howard," she commented as he looked up at her. She and his teachers were the only ones to call him by his full name. The teacher did it because there were two other 'Harrys' in her class.

Harry frowned, looking so very much like Steve. "No Mummy," he answered, confused, "I'm not a flower!"

She just grinned as in one motion she swept him up into her arms and stood, making him squeal in surprise. "Yes you are," she exclaimed as she began to walk towards the house, "you're a Harry-blossom!"

Harry began to wriggle in her arms, "No Mummy!" he cried. She stopped and looked at him, not understanding the panicking tone. He pointed over her shoulder. "Stevie!"

Lily followed his gaze and smirked when she realized what was wrong. She'd forgotten his Captain America toy, which was still sitting in the grass. The butterfly from before was on top of its head. "Stevie seems fine out here, he made a new friend." The fact that the bear was named 'Stevie' was ironic since Harry did not know that his biological father was Captain America. "Want to just come back after lunch?"

Harry crossed his little arms and put on a frown. "No," he declared with seriousness only a child can muster, "Stevie would get lonely."

Her lips quirking in suppressed amusement Lily walked back over, picking her son's toy up. She brushed off the pollen and dirt before handing it back to her son, who hugged it tight and kissed the top of its head. He mumbled something into it, she only caught "missed you" and it made her smile. Her son was such a loving, gentle, affectionate boy, she hoped that nothing would ever stain that perfection.

Then he coughed. And coughed again. Lily felt a hot burning worry when he began to hack and sputter as he was hit with what was obviously an asthma attack. "Crap," she muttered quietly as one hand flew to her purse before she remembered that she hadn't brought it out with her. Holding tight to Harry she dashed into the house. Placing him on the couch and hating herself for leaving him alone she hurried to the foyer, grabbed his inhaler from her purse, and hurried back to him. Once he took a breath with it he visibly relaxed.

The only thing that Lily wished she could change about her son was his health. For all the arrogance of magic users they couldn't heal asthma, or anemia, or even his color blindness. She'd thought she had understood what Steve went through, but the full force of it hadn't hit her until she had to watch her son deal with many of them.

Lily didn't know how Steve lived as long as he had. Harry wasn't even four yet and already she knew that he would have a difficult life. Even if he didn't inherit _all_ of his father's old illnesses, which the doctors said was likely, the littlest cold would bring him to the emergency room. And it wasn't like he could go to a magical Healer.

After all, little Howard was not magical in the slightest.

* * *

Harry swung his feet back and forth as he held his mouth wide open so the doctor could check it. The five-year-old gagged a bit when the tongue depressor went too far back but it was quickly removed so he could clear his throat and swallow.

"Well everything looks to be in order," the doctor said, giving him a smile and nodding to his mother. "I'll just get a prescription written out for you and then you can be heading home."

The boy beamed happily when he heard that, pushing himself off the table and landing firmly on the floor. He missed the way his mother's body tensed when he did that and how the doctor eyed him worriedly.

"Anything else doctor?" Lily asked as Harry sat on the floor and began lacing up his shoes.

The man glanced at Harry before turning to the boy's mother. "His immune system was pretty weak before and getting the flu pretty much ravaged it. The probiotics I am prescribing will help, but if he ever anything more than a cold you should bring him back here." He shook his head. "If he gets sick like this again, he could die."

* * *

Lily felt her son grip her hand tightly as they walked through the museum, his head swiveling back and forth as he tried to take in everything around him. It was pretty crowded for a weekday but not as much as Lily had expected.

She gently tugged Harry in one direction when he stopped to stare at an old airplane. "Come on," she spoke, getting his attention. "I know you wanna look but there's something I think you should see first."

Harry nodded and followed her as his mother wove through the crowd teeming into the Smithsonian, keeping a firm grip on his hand. They made their way towards the back and less people were around. Harry could see posters of a man in some sort of costume holding a round shield with a star on it, with rings of red and blue. "Who's that Mum?" he asked, pointing.

Lily guided him to the entrance to the exhibit, where the words _Captain America: Birth of a Legend_ were written in steel letters. Harry read them before looking at his mother. "Who-?" he began.

"Howard," she cut him off, crouching so she could look the seven-year-old in the eyes. "You know who your father was?"

He nodded confusedly, glancing at the words then back to her. "Yea, his name was Steve. James was my step-dad."

Lily smiled at that and nodded; she always wanted Harry to remember James. "Yes." She brushed an errant curl behind his ear. "You look a lot like him, you know. Steve would have loved you so much."

Harry frowned, still not understanding. "Mum what does that have to do with this?"

Clever boy. "Your dad's name was Steve Rogers. I told you that he was a soldier, like me, but that isn't exactly true." She could see the confusion still lurking so she turned him to look at the poster, holding his hand firmly. "Howard, your father was Captain America."

It had an obvious effect. Harry knew who Captain America was; every little boy had heard of him, even decades later. Besides, Lily had told him stories. Harry's eyes grew huge and he stared at the image, stunned.

He didn't say a word as they went through the exhibit. He let go of her hand and read every single message, looked at every picture. Harry watched the video recording of Steve three times, the one that Lily remembered watching with General Philips. She felt tears gathering in her eyes every time she saw the picture of herself in his compass.

It was three hours before Harry wanted to leave. As much as the memories made Lily's heart ache she knew that Harry needed to know this, to know what kind of man his father was. She only wished that Steve and Harry could have met. It was true that Steve would have loved Harry. The boy was so much like him. More than looks it was in the way he acted, the way he cared.

However, that chance was something that had been denied to both father and son.

* * *

"I am Iron Man."

Lily couldn't help rolling her eyes as the reporters almost exploded with shock, shoving their way towards the podium with dozens of questions flying through the air. Tony was certainly Howard's son, and him being such a drama queen proved it.

She turned off the TV and stood, stretching her back. Harry was taking a nap and she was a bit bored. He'd finished all his homeschool work for the day and was free.

Lily walked over to counter and began shuffling through the bills sitting there.

"So this is how mortals live?"

Lily jumped, swearing as she whipped around to face the speaker, grabbing for her wand before she remembered that it was in her room. However, all thoughts of attacking vanished when she saw who was there.

Sitting at the kitchen table was a woman, though Lily would not have called her that. Her wavy black hair flowed to her shoulders where it curled outwards, contrasting her skin which was as white as milk. Dark eyes lined with black flicked across the newspaper in her delicate hands and one thin eyebrow rose at what she read.

"_Tony Stark Tells All_," she read the title, her black lips smirking. "That man has more secrets in his closet than the public could possibly imagine." She reached into the paper bag that had appeared with to her and withdrew a couple french fries, popping them in her mouth. She turned to look at Lily, smirking and nodding to the bag. "Want some?"

Lily took a breath as she walked over to the table and sat down, though not too close. "What is it with you and cheap food?" muttered the redhead.

The entity's smirk just widened and she refolded the paper, placing it down on the table. "I came to check up on you, if that's what you were wondering." She folded her fingers and stared at Lily evenly. "Things are starting to get warmed up around the universe. Threats are building, the darkness is growing stronger." She sucked the salt off her fingers, ruining the ominous effect.

"And you're telling me this… why?" questioned Lily, shifting in her seat. Simply being near the woman made her uncomfortable. Lily could actually feel her magic inside her screaming at her to get away.

The woman rolled her eyes again, sighing as if incredibly exasperated. "Lily, Lily, Lily," she murmured as she leaned back in the chair. Her long elegant dress seemed to ripple with the movement, the black fabric looking like something out of a gothic fairytale with its many layers. "You seem to have expected me to do you a service and never speak to you again." She narrowed her eyes at Lily and the witch felt an overwhelming fear lodge at the back of her mind. "I intend to make sure that my investments are secure."

Lily swallowed audibly and nodded. The woman nodded back and the fear faded from Lily's mind.

"Good." With a wave of her hand the newspaper and bag dissolved into mist and vanished. The woman stood, straightening her dress. "A storm is coming Lily, the likes of which this world has never seen. You and your son will be thrown right into the middle of it and even I will not be able to protect you." She looked out the window where dark clouds were approaching before turning back to Lily. "Meddling with time can have great consequences. Returning you from the Plane of the Afterlife after Voldemort killed you has affected everything that is to come." Her dark eyes bored into Lily's. "Should you fall again, I cannot stop what is to come." She turned away and the stormclouds outside dissipated, raising her hands to perform some act of magic.

Lily spoke up before the woman could vanish. "Wait, Death!"

Death turned back to her and raised an eyebrow.

"My son, my Howard… what would have happened to him if you hadn't meddled?"

Death just stared for a moment before closing her eyes. "He would have lived a short, cruel life," spoke the deity after a moment. "He would have been poisoned by the soul piece that attempted to latch onto him, Voldemort's magic tainting his soul. He would have never known who his father was or that James was not him, the soul magic warping his looks. He would have been hated, tricked, and hurt. Finally he would have died at the age of seventeen after killing Voldemort, when the Horcrux would have been ripped from his soul and destroyed it, casting him into Limbo for all eternity. Soon after the Magical World would have been wiped out, after which the rest of humanity would follow."

Then, without another word, Death ripped open the fabric of space and stepped through, leaving Lily alone in the kitchen with that horrible possibility swimming around her mind.

* * *

**A/N: Hopefully that pacifies all you people who were about to bitch about Lily being alive. Yes, that is Death. No, I am not explaining her interest in Lily and Harry yet.**

**Yes, Lily is now the Savior, or believed to be, and Harry is not. Previously I was claiming him as a muggle, which is still how I see him, but I suppose squib is more correct-I was thinking in terms of the many fanfics where squibs possess a tiny bit of magic.**

**Gotten a lot of reviews about how Harry is OC, and I think that's actually really funny, considering how many OTHER stories have extreme deviations from canon. Harry is still _very_ much the main character. Prophecy still exists about him and all that.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Ugh, I am so unbelievably sick of this chapter. It's been stumping me for the longest time, and finally I decided to just steal a scene from the original. Hopefully the next comes faster and is better.**

* * *

"_Curve ball, high and outside for ball one. So the Dodgers are tied, 4-4_."

Steve frowned as he felt the lights hitting his eyelids. He was so tired, did he have to get up now?

"_And the crowd well knows that with one swing of his bat, this fellow's capable of making it a brand-new game again."_

Steve's mind began to return to awareness. His blue eyes began to slowly blink open.

"_Just an absolutely gorgeous day here at Ebbets Field."_

Steve turned his head to the side slightly as he took in his surroundings. 'Where am I?' he thought blearily. 'I don't recognize this place.'

"_The Phillies have managed to tie it up at 4-4."_

He watched the fan spin as a part of his mind registered what he could hear on the radio.

"_But the Dodgers have three men on."_

Steve turned his body and moved his legs off of the bed. He used his forearms to push himself upright, feeling a heavy weariness in his bones that he didn't remember being there before.

"_Pearson beaned Reiser in Philadelphia last month. Wouldn't the youngster like a hit here to return the favor?"_

Steve paused as he realized what the commentator was saying. He slowly turned towards the radio.

"_Pete leans in. Here's the pitch."_

A car horn blared from outside the room he stayed in but Steve barely noticed it. He was more focused on the game; or, more importantly, _which_ game it was.

"_Swung on. A line to the right. And it gets past Rizzo. Three runs will score. Reiser heads to third. Durocher's going to wave him in."_

'I know this game,' he realized. 'But if this is what I think it is, then why…'

His train of thought was interrupted as he heard the creak of hinges. He looked up at the door to see a young woman gently pushing it open. She was wearing a standard female uniform; dark tie over plain brown uniform. Her hair fell in loose curls. 'Peggy is prettier,' he thought in some part of his mind.

"Good morning," she greeted with a smile, closing the door behind her. She glanced at her watch as she took a few steps toward the bed, her heels clunking on the floor. "Or should I say afternoon?" She folded her hands neatly in front of her.

"Where am I?" he asked slowly.

She gave him a calming smile. He didn't trust her expression, or her in general. "You're in a recovery room in New York City."

"_The Dodgers take the lead, 8-4. Oh, Dodgers!"_

His gaze flickered over to the radio as his suspicions were confirmed.

"_Everyone is on their feet. What a game we have here today, folks. What a game, indeed."_

Steve narrowed his eyes slightly at her. "Where am I really?"

She gave him that innocent toothy smile again. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"The game." He watched her brow crease ever so slightly into a frown. "It's from May 1941. I know, 'cause I was there." He knew that he had struck a chord. Her entire posture seemed to alter; stiffening and shifting into something else, something that was definitely _not_ a nurse. He stood and took a few steps towards her, his height and size making him loom over her threateningly. "Now, I'm going to ask you again. Where am I?"

He saw her right hand tense slightly. "Captain Rogers-" she began.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

Suddenly the door opened and two large, probably armed, men stepped in. He backed up as he saw them. They came running towards him and with practiced ease he grabbed them by the front of their jackets and sent them slamming towards the wall, smashing it open. He jumped through the gaping hole and into a larger empty room.

"Captain Rogers, wait!" cried the faux-nurse, but he ignored her. He threw open the doors to the room and ran down a hallway. He heard the voice of the faux-nurse blaring over a speaker.

"_All agents, code 13! I repeat. All agents, code 13!"_

He stumbled out into a bigger hallway filled with people. Apparently the phrase 'code 13' meant something to them, because all the people turned to look at him simultaneously. As a few began to approach him he ran away, pushing people aside in his haste.

He saw glass doors ahead and burst through them onto a busy street filled with cars. He took off running down the street as he heard people come running after him. It was almost like the time just after the experiment when he had been chasing a HYDRA spy. Steve ran past the cars and down the street, halting to a stop in the middle of a busy intersection.

He spun, looking all around him. This place was like nothing he had ever seen. There were enormous advertisements that stretched up the sides of buildings next to him. There were vibrantly colored screens all across the walls, unlike any tech that he had ever witnessed. He realized that the cars he had passed were different as well; sleeker and faster than the ones he remembered. As he watched several large gleaming black cars drove up around him, forming a circle.

"At ease, soldier!" called a rough male voice.

Steve whipped his head around as his body responded to the familiar order. He paused when he saw a bald man in a black leather trench coat with an eye patch. Steve didn't recognize the man, but he carried himself like a commander.

The man spoke again. "Look, I'm sorry about that little show back there, but we thought it best to break it to you slowly."

"Break what?" asked Steve in confusion.

"You've been asleep, Cap. For almost seventy years."

Steve's breath caught in his throat as he realized what that meant. Asleep…for _70 years?_ That was why everything was so different. That was why everything seemed so strange. The world had moved on without him. He was like a rock in a river bed; everything else changed like it should, but he stayed.

"You gonna be okay?" asked the trench coat man.

"Yeah," answered Steve. It felt like his mind was detached from his body and he knew that this would hit him harder later. "Yeah I just…" His mind went back to Peggy and their last conversation. That was now decades ago. Peggy may have a family, and children of her own. Or she might not even be alive anymore. "I had a date."

* * *

Lily held her head in her hands, her legs drawn back under herself as she leaned against the wall of her closet, the door closed and lights off. It felt like every muscle in her body was tensed, and the cramps she could feel in her stomach had prompted her to get a trash can in case her stomach decided to rebel.

It was a very good thing Harry wasn't home. His gymnastics lesson lasted for another half-hour, and Lily had the house to herself. Which was exactly how it needed to be when, while cleaning, a breaking news story had come on the air, from America, blaring the incredible news.

Captain America was alive. Found frozen in the arctic wastelands, brought back to America, and found to still be revivable.

But for Lily, the news was… like being hit with a freight train. She thought she had lost Steve, had gone to his funeral with Howard and the Howling Commandoes. Nearly a decade (in her experience) later, she would still sometimes wake up and feel overwhelming grief, knowing that her son would never know his father, that she would never see his smile.

Steve was alive. Not just alive, he was supposed to make a public appearance within a few days. Everyone wanted to meet him, America's greatest hero.

Lily's first thought was that she needed to go see him, make sure that it was really _him_ and not some political scam. However, her emotions warred with that. Her mind told her that she needed to go, to see, but her heart told her that opening herself up like that would bring only pain. And if it was Steve, what then? Lily had built a nice life for herself and for Harry, away from the limelight and stress of the wizarding world. Harry went to a good school, he had friends, and was happy.

If Steve was alive, he would want to know the truth. How she could still be young when she should have been nearly a hundred years old, how she had travelled in time, and who Harry was. Not that it would be difficult to figure it out; Harry looked a great deal like Steve, any fool could see the relation.

What if he didn't want anything to do with her and Harry? Or worse, what if he wanted Harry but not her? Harry was Lily's life, if she didn't have him she couldn't bear to live.

Lily swallowed, running a shaking hand through her hair. She recognized all her excuses as being just that-excuses. Bland attempts at rationalizing her own cowardice and unwillingness to stand up to her fear. Some Gryffindor she was.

That thought prompted her to look to the other side of the closet, where her long dressed hung. But underneath, in the large gap between the bottom hems and the floor, a wooden trunk could be seen.

It had been years since Lily had touched her school trunk. Since Harry was a baby, actually. She'd never had much need for it, and had to keep it hidden. Not even Harry knew it was in here. After the defeat of Voldemort, when she had fled with Harry, she'd started trying to stop using magic. Lily didn't know how they tracked its use, and would never risk being discovered. Harry knew of magic of course, but rarely witnessed its use himself. The only magical objects he came into contact with on a day-to-day basis were moving pictures Lily had placed in electronic frames, to make people think they were recordings.

A moment of hesitation was all that it took before Lily pulled it out. The locks were old but she could still feel the faint tingle of magic in her fingertips when she touched them, and they opened with only a few creaks. The smell of old parchment wafted up, reminding her suddenly of Slughorn's classes and his Amorentia display. She brushed her fingers along the papers scattered through it, any organization that was once there long since lost.

There was a time where she wouldn't have backed down from a challenge. Books and knowledge may have been her passion, but the Sorting Hat put her in Gryffindor for a reason.

One page stuck to her hand and Lily lifted it up, brow creasing as she recognized her favorite quote during her Hogwarts years. _Courage is the discovery that you may not win, and trying when you know you can lose_, by Thomas Krause. Petunia had been the one to show Lily that quote, back when they were close and shared everything.

Steve embodied that quote more than anyone else Lily had ever met. It was what Peggy Carter had seen, what Peggy had loved, and what Lily could barely remember.

Perhaps it was time to refresh her memory.

* * *

The day was hot, hotter than Lily was used to, the sun beating down so heavily it felt like she was going to melt out of her skin. Even with a hat on she could still feel the heat, so unlike the cool climate he was used to.

Her son, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease, even in the discomfort. Sunglasses covered his eyes and a baseball hat protected his face. His curly blonde hair ruffled in the wind and the boy appeared completely at east.

If he'd known exactly what today was going to be, he might have been more excited. Lily hadn't yet told him exactly what was going to happen today, just that someone very important was going to make an appearance. He didn't know that it was going to be Captain America. His dad.

Not that it really meant a lot to Harry. He was only nine years old, and the concept was a touch vague. He clearly admired the man as a hero, but didn't connect to him in any sort of relative, and certainly not as a father. His mother was an excellent parent, and he had never felt a gap in his life that would make him crave a father. For him, far more exciting than their shared genes, was the superhero.

A tap drew Lily's attention to her son, who then pointed to one of the many banners hanging from posts around the area. Each one displayed a different picture, all corresponding to Captain America. The one her son pointed out just so happened to display a very recognizable figure. Short dark wavy hair perfectly styled, pretty features, and an impeccable uniform. If the resemblance wasn't enough, the name was underneath: Peggy Carter.

"I hated that picture," she muttered, shaking her head as she looked at Harry. "I always thought it made me look rather pompous."

Harry cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes slightly. "Yea," he replied, "It kinda does." Then he flashed her a cheeky grin.

Lily smirked and rolled her eyes, used to her son's antics. She opened her mouth to make a witty reply, but what she said was drowned out under the sound of a trumpet, which blew loud and clear across the crowd. At the noise everyone hushed, talking dimming down to soft whispers.

When Lily and Harry turned to look at the stage, it was no longer empty. Now there was a young man dressed in military garb, a trumpet held firmly in one hand as he looked out at the crowd.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I am still alive, and no, this story is NOT abandoned, nor will it be. I know exactly what I am doing with it, it's just... getting there is kinda tricky. This chapter in particular. What I originally had plotted for it completely fell through, and due to several other things in both real life and fanfic world, it took me a long time to get back to it.**

**One of those things is my new X-Men/HP story, _Collision_, which I have FINALLY posted! I've been trying to plan it out since I saw Days of Future Past. I want to offer a big thanks to my two besties, AnarchicMuse (seriously one of, if not THE, best writer I have ever seen) and SoundedSummer, for helping me with that. Would love for any of you to read it! The second chapter is a touch dry, but the explanation was necessary.**

**So, yea, sorry about the long wait. I hope it won't happen again but no promises, life rarely goes according to plan. I will be working on my other stories as well, so feel free to check them out! (Shamelessly advertising is me.)**


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